


Visits

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21516169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Prince Prompto’s shield drives him back and yells at him.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 13
Kudos: 129





	Visits

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“It’s unconscionable,” Loqi seethes, practically spitting on the windshield in his bristling anger. He acts as though they’re engaged and Prompto’s activities are a personal affront, when really, Loqi’s just his shield, and his duties hardly extend to Prompto’s practically non-existent sex life. Loqi keeps his eyes mostly on the busy Lucian traffic, but every so often, his eyes dart sideways to spew pure fire. He growls, “Imagine if your father heard of this. If you were anyone but his heir, you’d be thrown straight in the dungeons!”

Prompto leans his head against the passenger’s seat window and doesn’t even pretend to care. He’s sure his father would indeed throw a fit, but of course he would—he’s as fanatically patriotic as Loqi, so he’s never seen Lucians the way Prompto does. He doesn’t understand that they’re just _people_ , like those of the Empire, and all they want out of life is _peace_. Sometimes, it really feels like there’s no point to these delegations. But Prompto keeps hoping his father and King Regis will find some sort of common ground. Or maybe they’ll just take the easy way out and marry their two princes off in the hope that it’ll force better relations. 

For a moment, Prompto wistfully daydreams about walking down the isle to his Lucian counterpart, who would of course be dressed in all black—a nice, well-tailored suit that hugged his handsome frame, and he’d smile at Prompto in that charming, sly way of his. His dark eyes would glisten with promise of their first night together, and his hands would be so _warm_ when Prompto slipped into them. Noctis would probably give the officiant some snark, but his dry attitude would make the rest of the overdone ceremony bearable. Prompto would laugh at his dumb jokes and take _so many_ pictures.

“And _sneaking off like that_... do you not realize we’re in enemy territory? Their Citadel is crawling with the dregs of their society that they’ve slapped into uniforms! Why do you think we declined their request to stay there?”

Prompto shrugs, even though Loqi’s not looking at him. He figured they just got a separate hotel on the outskirts of Insomnia to spite the king’s offer. Frankly, Prompto would’ve preferred to stay at the Citadel. Then he could’ve snuck out in the middle of the night, popped into the elevator, and rode right up to Noctis’ quarters—then _rode Noctis._ They didn’t have enough time to do much before their shields caught them, but if they found each other in the dead of night, maybe they could properly lock the door and finished what they started. 

He could thread his fingers through Noctis’ silky hair, brush his lips over Noctis’ casual smirk, and rock against Noctis’ perfect body as the two of them devolve into messily making out. They could stumble back towards the bed, trading tips for King’s Knight in between greedily sucking on each other’s tongues. Now he knows that Noctis is _damn good_ with his tongue, because the way he used it on Prompto’s neck around the corner of the conference hall—

“How _dare_ he,” Loqi’s still ranting. “Defiling a prince like that, what scum. He should be ashamed!”

Prompto makes the mistake of grunting, “He’s a prince too.”

“He’s a trash prince of garbage! Just look at this mess of a highway—their city structure is a joke! I bet that no-good, lazy bastard doesn’t even read his council’s reports. A heathen like that probably just slops around his bedroom all day playing video games and eating bagels. _Trash_.”

Prompto’s so smitten with that trash it’s not even funny. He has no idea what Loqi has against bagels, but he’d love to share them with Noctis in between rounds of video games. Hell, he’d happily eat a bagel right out of Noctis’ mouth.

He should’ve gotten Noctis’ friend code in King’s Knight. He’ll have to try and pass a note or something during the next conference. 

They should make that A Thing. Passing notes. They’d have to be careful, of course, because if the notes were intercepted, they might be read aloud. So Prompto would have to just draw a generic penis or something and hope that Noctis would understand the gist. 

He wonders what Noctis’ penis looks like. It’s probably huge. He wants to fuck around with it even if it isn’t.

“Are you listening to me, Your Highness?”

“Yup,” Prompto lies. “Prince of garbage. Gotcha.”

“And that muscle-head he calls a shield... trust those fools to employ brawn over brains! A _real_ soldier must be small enough to be swift! And what’s with that beanpole always following him around?”

Prompto _almost_ agrees that yeah, hot guys do seem to like tailing Noctis. Maybe like attracts like. 

They finally pull into the parking lot of the hotel they’ve booked, half a dozen black cars full of guards and other Imperial royalty parking all around them. Loqi practically kicks the driver’s side open and hisses, “I can’t wait to be unconscious and forget where I am.”

Prompto can’t wait to get some privacy in the shower and jerk off to the memory of Noctis’ tongue in his mouth, but hey, maybe he’ll get lucky and dream of Noctis too.


End file.
